Supernatural Oneshots
by gezundheit
Summary: random drabbles, either fluffy or super angsty.
1. Dean Winchester, Family Man

Dean Winchester was a family man. He always had been. Even when his family was only his baby brother, he threw everything he had into it. Then when his family grew, when the young and beautiful y/n joined it, his heart grew, he cared for that small and broken family even more.

Y/n fit into that family as if she was born into it. She loved both of the Winchesters as fiercely as if they were her own brothers, she knew she'd give her life for them in an instant.

And as family goes, they struggled together, and they grew together and they learned and fought and cried and laughed and _loved_ together.

At the beginning, Dean was constantly telling himself it was too good to be true, that he should avoid attachment and that y/n would only end up dead, just like his mother, like his father, like Kevin and Charlie and Bobby and Ellen and Jo. But then he got caught up in the moment. Y/n became such a part of their family and a part of their hearts that he couldn't avoid it any longer. Sam loved her too much. Dean eventually realized he did too.

Up against good, evil, angels, devils, even God himself, they made their own choice.

They chose family.

But maybe, just maybe, family does end in blood.

It was a hunt like any other. At least, they thought it was. It began, at least, as just another battle against evil. But this time they got cocky. Y/n ended up left alone in the car, while Sam and Dean finished off what should've been simply three average demons. Nothing they couldn't handle.

Unfortunately, there happened to be a fourth. This one was smarter. It could sense the boys' need to protect, and where it was aimed. It discovered y/n, alone and helpless in the car.

Dean had always loved his car. It was his most prized possession, an unhealthy amount of his time was spent on its care and upkeep. But after he saw its insides coated in y/n's still warm blood, after he saw the window broken by the demon breaking into rip out the heart of the girl he loved before she knew she was the girl he loved, he could never see the Impala the same way again. He couldn't stand sitting on the seat where she'd been carved open, or seeing the windshield that had been painted with her blood. He couldn't stand being in the same place where she'd been slain, the last word out of her mouth a desperate cry of his own name, a desperate cry he never heard.

Dean Winchester was a family man. At least he used to be. But a man can only lose his family so many times before it loses him.


	2. Hell and Back

"hey Dean, wanna go out for some food?" you ask, stepping toward him. your shoulders brush, and Dean flinches away. you back up a step, confused by his reaction, but don't say anything.

"Uh, not now y/n. I'm a little busy." he doesn't meet your eyes.

"Oh...um, okay." your voice is weak as you back away from him, a little hurt.

He'd been acting weird with you for a while, ever since…. well, ever since he came back from hell.

it was understandable, you suppose. He had quite literally been through hell. But at the same time, you weren't sure if

you'd done something wrong, offended him somehow, and you didn't know how to ask him.

A couple days later, something similar happened. But this time was so much worse.

Sam and Dean came back late from a hunt. Sam was alright, simply passing out on the couch as soon as he walked in. But Dean, you notice is wincing, holding his side.

"Dean, you alright?" you ask, your fingertips brushing down his arm.

He pulls away abruptly, not even trying to be subtle.

"I'm fine, I'm fine y/n." He practically growls.

"Dean!" you plant yourself in front of him. "I don't know what exactly I did to offend you so greatly, but you're clearly injured and you need to let me help you." your voice is strong, not leaving room for argument.

Dean doesn't say anything, simply heading toward the bathroom. You follow him, watching as he sheds his jacket and practically tears his shirt off, throwing it down in the hallway before stepping into the bathroom.

You stop in the doorway and watch Dean turn around, looking over his shoulder in the mirror to see the blood slowly dripping down his muscled back.

"Dean- oh my gosh." you rush toward him, your fingers hovering over his skin.

"it's fine."

"shut up." you push him against the counter and pull out the first aid kit before fetching a bottle of vodka.

Dean says nothing as you clean out his scratches, sopping up his blood and sewing up the deepest cut. You tape gauze pads over the injury, letting your fingers linger on the edges of the soft medical tape.

"you didn't do anything wrong." he says suddenly, his voice low and husky.

"what?"

"you said you didn't know what I did to offend you. you didn't do anything." he says.

"then why have you been acting so weird with me?" you ask, sudden emotion filling your voice.

"y/n…. I was in hell. I was tortured and… I tortured souls." Dean's voice is strained.

"Dean, there was nothing you could've done, it's not your fault!" you say, you're heart breaking at the pain in his eyes.

"you don't understand, y/n! I tortured souls… and I liked it!" He runs his hands through his hair anxiously.

"Dean-"

"And there was this one- this one soul who

was just like you, innocent and young and she kept screaming my name and I- I didn't stop!" His voice is rising, and you reach for him. "Don't!" the word has a hysterical edge to it as he pushes you away. "Don't you understand? I'm messed up and- and dangerous! Stop acting like- like you still care about me. you don't know what I'm capable of, y/n." he turns away.

You chew on your lip for a second, then step toward him, your fingers splaying across his shoulder blade. He turns toward you, and throws his arms around your waist, suddenly crushing you against him. His head rests in the crook of your neck and you run your fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-" the words become a chant against your collar

bone, his breath warm over your skin.

"Dean."

he pulls away to meet your gaze.

"I know you, Dean, and I know you'd never hurt me." Dean starts to say something, but you cut him off. "Dean. It's alright."

he pulls you back against him.

"I love you." he whispers.

"I love you too Dean." you say into his hair. "I love you too."


	3. A Sold Soul

y/n… you have to tell him." Sam whispers to you. dean is asleep on the other side of the room, burrowed under crappy motel sheets.

"I know, I know." you run your hands anxiously through your hair. "I just- I just don't know how to bring it up."

"you've only got six months, so you better figure it out soon." Sam says, his eyes fragile at the idea of losing you. he swallows the lump in his throat, willing away burning tears.

"you don't have to remind me." your eyes are locked on the sleeping form of the oldest Winchester. when you'd sold your souls four and a half years ago, you didn't expect ever to have anyone to leave behind. didn't expect to have anyone miss you. but then… dean had showed up and everything changed.

"tomorrow, y/n. he deserves to know." Sam mutters, swiftly wiping away an escaping tear.

you nod, not taking your eyes from dean.

the next morning, Sam offers to go pick up coffee and breakfast for the three of you, giving you a pointed look before he leaves.

you take a steadying breath before turning to dean, who is pulling his boots on across from you.

"dean, I-i have to tell you something." your voice is unsteady and fragile.

"you know you can tell me anything." he says. he's too innocent of this. he doesn't deserve it. for a second, your resolve almost breaks. but you know you'd only hurt him worse by disappearing one day.

"here goes. four and a half years ago I was in a rough spot. really rough. I was already a hunter, but… it was rough." you pause, drawing in a long and shaky breath. "so I did something. something I didn't think I'd ever care enough to regret."

deans eyes are wide now. he shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

"y/n… you didn't. tell me you didn't-" his voice breaks, something in his eyes shattering as you give a single nod.

"I sold my soul, dean." you whisper.

"how much lo-"

"six months." your voice is nearly inaudible.

dean suddenly shoots to his feet, storming toward the door and slamming it shut behind him.

a suffocating silence fills the room for a few minutes after he disappears, then sobs explode from your chest and you slide to the ground, sitting against the bed with your knees to your chest. and you cry.

for the first time, you regret that choice. you let the grief and the fear and the regret out, crying until you can't anymore.

then you just sit there, dried tear tracks down your cheeks, your hair a mess from pulling on it, your breath uneven and your fingers trembling, staring at the ground.

you hear the door open and close, but don't look up.

there is a rustling of material, then suddenly a warm body is beside you, the length of a leather clad arm pressed against yours.

"when I first saw you, I couldn't believe my eyes. I would've thought you were an angel if I didn't know anything about actual Angels. since then, not much has changed. well, one thing has." dean's voice is husky, as if he'd been crying. you tilt your head just slightly toward him, making eye contact.

his eyes are as red and puffy as you assume yours are, and they are filled with a heartbreaking agony, a fragility you never want to see there again.

"want to know what's changed?" he whispers.

you nod slightly.

"I didn't love you back then." he locks eyes with you. "and now I do."

and then you break, every reserve you've ever had being crushed underneath you. things burst forth that you didn't even know were there. a terrible sob erupts and you throw yourself into dean's waiting arms.

"I don't want to die!" you cry. and then dean loses it. his tears run down his face, dripping and mingling with your own. his shoulders shake slightly, his arms crush your body against his. he buries his face in your hair and you cling to him, letting out all the tears you'd thought you'd run out of.

you don't know how long you sit there wrapped in him, but you know it's not long enough.

/six months later/

dean lay on the bed in the empty motel room. a thin silver chain was wound around his fingers, and he occasionally brought it to his lips.

it was all he had left of you, and he'd be d-ed if he ever let it go.


	4. Business Casual

"I don't know if I have anything 'business casual.' What does that even mean?!" you ask, throwing the application into the air in defeat.

You were on a job with the boys, and your supernatural suspect just so happened to be the man running a company that just so happened to be hiring… women. And since you just so happen to be the only woman in the bunker currently, it had been decided that you would go undercover as a potential employee in order to get the skinny on the suspect.

"Just wear the nicest dress you have, y/n." You hear Sam shout from across the bunker.

"I only own one." you grumble to yourself as you throw open your closet. "And I hate it."

The dress can definitely be classified as a 'little black dress.' It reached to just above your knees and was nearly skin tight, made of this slinky black material that was surprisingly soft. It had a high neckline and was sleeveless, but you paired it with tights, black heels and a dark blazer. As you swept your hair up and applied some lipstick, you racked your brain, trying to remember the last time you dressed up. If you were being honest, it was actually kind of nice to feel so hot.

"How's this, Sam? Business casual enough?" You ask, walking into the library where Sam sat with his laptop and spinning around.

"Well they certainly won't say no to you." Sam says, his eyes sweeping over you quickly before giving you a reassuring smile.

You give Sam a playful grin before going to find Dean, who was supposed to drive you to the interview and stay nearby to be your backup.

"Dean? You ready to go? Interview's in twenty minutes." You walk into the kitchen and find Dean leaning against the counter, sipping a beer and staring at nothing.

He doesn't look up when you walk in, so you say his name again. His head pops up suddenly, and he begins to ask what you need when his eyes lock on you.

Dean's eyes don't sweep quite as quickly as Sam's. You realize he's never seen you in anything but grimy jeans and oversized t shirts.

Your cheeks heat up and you shift onto one foot, looking at the ground. Dean's eyes finally reach your face, and there's something in his eyes you don't recognize.

"Wow." He breathes, his eyes moving downwards again.

"You ready to go? I don't want to be late." You repeat, snapping yourself out of your embarrassment. Dean's eyes are still a little spacy. "Dean! My eyes are up here!"

He shakes his head and meets your eyes.

"Right, right. Interview."

You both head for the car, but before you close the door you hear a shout from Sam.

"Hey you two! Get a room, will you? Don't come back here. I've got stuff to do."

You're pretty sure you hear Dean mutter, "Oh we'll get a room alright."


	5. Love You Darlin'

"Hey Dean, I think I found the source of these hauntings. I'm gonna go in and check this place out, I'll call you back in a few and let you know what's up. Love you darlin."

Dean's fingers curl so tightly around his phone that his knuckles go white. His eyes squeeze shut and he brings his hands to his face, the plastic of the phone digging against his cheekbone.

The recording replays.

"Hey Dean, I think I found the source of these hauntings…"

Dean can't take it, and he hurtles the phone at the wall as hard as he can, the plastic shattering into hundreds of tiny pieces.

That was the last time he heard your voice. It was the only thing he had left of you. That voicemail had showed up on his phone eighteen hours ago. Sixteen hours ago, Dean had raced t that house, anxious after not hearing from you. Fifteen hours ago, he'd discovered your body, beaten and bloody.

Since then, he'd been locked in his room, playing that voicemail over and over.

The shattered pieces of the phone hit the ground with clattering echoes, filling the suffocating silence of the small room. The silence beat through his ears, hypnotizing him with a dance drawing him toward insanity.

"I failed, I failed again! How many more times do other people have to take the bullet for me messing up?! I let her go for an hour and now she's dead and it's all my fault, IT'S ALL MY FAULT!" Dean collapsed onto the ground, his fingers tearing into his hair and clawing over his face. "I'm sorry y/n!" His scream tore at his throat, tears burning his eyes and leaving hot trails down his face. His voice cracks as he pulls his knees into his chest, scraping his palms over his face. "I'm so sorry." The words were low and broken.

Your last words echoed through his head.

"Love you darlin…."

He never got to say it back.


	6. Precious

you ran into the bunker, trying to get to it room fast enough that no one would see your tears. but dean looks up as soon as you walked in, and his face falls at the sight of your wet eyes.

"y/n, what's wrong sweetheart?" he steps toward you, his fingers brushing your arm. you try to push past him, but he steps in front of you and lifts your face up. "what happened?"

"my sister-" your voice is drowned out by a sob.

dean's face hardens at the mention of your abusive sister.

"what did she do? y/n, look at me. you can tell me, sweetheart. you can tell me." his voice is gentle and soft, rare coming from dean.

"it's nothing, it's stupid." you say over your hiccuping tears.

"it's not stupid if you're so upset about it." his hands gently pull yours from your face and he brushes his thumbs under your eyes, catching the tears.

"she said I was worthless and she wished I'd never been born!" you cry suddenly. you'd been so determined not to tell dean, but you wanted it off your chest.

"that's a lie, y/n, don't you ever believe that. ever, you hear me?" he folds you against his chest, and you focus on the deep rumble of his voice and the steady thumping of his heartbeat. "you are precious, y/n. absolutely precious. anyone who says otherwise can go live with Crowley." you feel his chest rise as he takes a deep breath. "it's very important that you understand this sweetheart. you're valuable, princess. you're beautiful and talented and smart and funny and a d-good hunter."

"thanks dean." you sniffle, looking up at him but not moving from his embrace. you push yourself to the very tips of your toes and press a wet kiss to his cheek, and he smiles hugely before tightening his hug.

"I love you y/n." his words are muffled by your hair, where he's buried his face, but you know what he said.

"and I love you, dean Winchester."


	7. Realized Something

"I'll grab the extra salt shells and meet you guys in the car." y/n said, turning to walk away. Sam obliged, turning to leave the room. Dean, however, wasn't so quick to comply.

"We need you to stay here, y/n." Dean said, taking the boxes of shells from her.

"What? Why? We already have all the information, we just need to get out there and ice the thing." y/n said, a look of confusion spread on her face.

"We might need someone to, uh, give us some more facts while we're out there." Dean's voice was questioning.

"Dean, what are you doing? You're just making crap up now." y/n asked, shifting her weight to one side.

"I just think it would be best if you stayed home, ya know?" Dean gave a crooked smile.

"What are you trying to say? You don't- don't want me to go?" her tone was almost a little hurt.

"It's not that I don't want you to go, it's just…" his voice faded out as he flailed for an explanation.

"Just what, Dean?"

"I just don't want you getting hurt." he mumbled.

"So you're just like suddenly concerned for my well being?" she questioned, her voice doubtful.

"Well yeah, I mean I just, you know realized something this last week, and…" Dean's voice trailed off.

"You realized something? Dean, what does that even mean?!" y/n asked incredulously.

"You know, I realized I-I need you and I couldn't bear it if anything, you know if anything happened to you. So that's why I was gonna ask you to stay home." Dean tripped over his words.

"You...you need me?" y/n's cheeks were a little flushed, and her voice was soft.

"Yeah…I mean, I-I think I love you, y/n. Yeah. I love you." Dean stuttered. Y/n had never seen him so baffled, and it was rather entertaining if she was being completely honest.

"I love you too Dean." Y/n smiled. "But I'm still going on this hunt." She snatched the shells back from Dean and spun on her heel, going the direction Sam had gone earlier.

"D-it y/n." Dean muttered, following her.


	8. Reason to Live

"where are you going?" deans voice was hard and sharp as he appeared in your bedroom doorway. you were packing your things into a backpack, collecting your belongings from all over the bunker.

"I'm leaving."

"no you're not."

"yes actually, I am." you turn to face him, hands on your hips.

"why?!" dean demands, stepping forward.

"because I don't belong here. I do nothing but put you and Sam into more danger than you throw yourselves into." you take a deep breath. "and I can't live with myself, knowing that."

"that's bull, y/n, and you know it. you leaving won't make any difference in our risk, it will just put us down a man." dean says, taking another step toward you.

"you know I'm right dean. I have as many enemies as you two, and me being here just brings more crap on you guys. I'm not going to be the reason you're worse off than you are anyways. I'm not going to be the reason one of you dies." you turn back around, cramming the last of your clothes into your backpack.

"y/n, just-" dean begins to follow you down the hallway. "we're better together, we can fight more the three of us than you can alone. than we can alone!" his voice is rising with an edge of fear.

"I've made my decision, dean."

"you'll die out there on your own!" he pleads as you stop in front of the door.

"so?"

you throw the door open.

"please y/n!"

you turn back to see him. his eyes are shattered, his voice trembling. his shoulders are tense with anxiety, his hand barely outstretched toward you.

"please. I need you." his voice is so fragile and his eyes are so broken that you almost change your mind.

your fingers wander from the door knob, wanting to touch him. you close your eyes and take a deep breath, then lunge toward him, curling your fist into his collar and smashing his lips to yours. he responds immediately, his arms wrapping impossibly tightly around your lower back. our resolve nearly breaks. but you need to protect him, more than anything you need him safe and alive.

you taste salt on his lips, and you don't know if it's from his tears or yours.

you suddenly shove him away, not even meeting his eyes before you step through the door, slamming it behind you.

his sob echoes through the door, and a wave of tears floods down your face.

but it's for his safety that you hurt him.

only when you're fifty miles away do you realize you still wear his flannel, that his scent envelops you and you want him back more than anything in this world, that you can't live without him.

but then you think of him dead and bloody, and you floor the gas, putting miles between you and your reason to live.


	9. If It Comes To It

"how could you be so d- stupid?!" dean demanded, slamming his fist into the table. you flinched at the sound, but didn't back down. "you could've been killed, y/n! why would you do something like that?"

"it was going to kill you." your voice was quiet but steady.

"I don't care! you don't do something like that, even if I'm being smited by a friggin angel!" dean shouted. his eyes were alight with absolute fury, and you were getting a little nervous.

"you can't expect me to stand back and watch you die, dean." you said, struggling to hold eye contact.

"if it come to it, that's exactly what I expect." his voice was steely and dangerous.

"that's not going to happen, no matter how much you yell at me."

suddenly he was close to you, his sparking eyes but inches from yours.

"you can't do things like that. it's unacceptable and it needs to stop or else I can't bring you on hunts ever again." he growled.

"you're not in charge of me dean. so back off. it's not going to stop." you retorted.

"why not, y/n? why are you determined to be so friggin difficult and self destructive?!" he shouted.

a strange rush took over you, and you gripped his collar tightly, yanking his face down to yours. you pressed a short kiss to his mouth, and shock filled his eyes.

you stood there for a second, watching him struggle to form words, but nothing came out.

you turned and left, leaving dean stammering in the kitchen.


	10. Not Your Job

"What about me?" elisabeth asked as i followed dean toward the impala.

"Stay here and watch over sammy." dean barked over his shoulder. "Rj and i are gonna go ice the sonofab that did this to him."

Dean was in an alarming mood, vicious anger alight in his eyes as he slammed the driver side door. I was barely in my seat before he sped off. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his jaw pulsing as he glared directly ahead.

A sudden guilt washed over me. I should've protected sam. If id been a little faster maybe he wouldn't be lying unconscious on a couch in the bunker.

"Im sorry dean, i-"

"D- right youre sorry!" he suddenly shouted. "I dont even know why im taking you with me right now when you clearly can't handle yourself on a hunt."

I sat in stunned silence for a moment, feeling a tangible fury coming in waves off dean. I leaned away from him, facing the window.

"Im sorry." this time its a weak whisper, barely audible.

"Stop apologizing. Sorry doesnt change anything." he growls.

I shut my mouth.

#)(#

"Beth?"

Elisabeth turned around at the feeble sound and all but ran toward sam.

"Sam! Are you alright? How do you feel?" she asked frantically, her hands fluttering over him.

"Im fine beth, calm down." he winced as he pushed himself into a sitting position. "Where are dean and rj?"

"They went to avenge you and finish off the thing that we were hunting." beth said.

"What?! I have to go help them!" sam started to stand up, but elisabeth's small hands pushed him back onto the couch.

"No way. You're staying here and resting. Dean left me in charge of you." she stated firmly, hands on her hips.

Sam smirked, amused despite his worry. "Alright then, nurse beth."

#)(#

"Dean!" i screamed, sprinting toward him. The demon id been struggling against body slammed me and i was crushed to the ground.

I gritted my teeth in resignation before slamming my demon knife into its skull.

I shoved the body off myself then scrambled to my feet.

I was going to make it in time. I wasn't going to fail them again.

Nothing went as planned, however. My ankle wrenched and i lurched forward, getting myself between the demon and dean just in time to slam my knife through its throat, twisting the blade as the demon flickered out.

"Rj, you d- idiot!" dean screamed.

I looked up, wondering what i'd done wrong this time. Suddenly my vision blurred and i stumbled forward, ending up leaning dizzily on dean.

Glancing down, i discovered where i went wrong.

What i assumed was dean's demon knife was buried hilt deep in my abdomen, and my shirt was sopping with glistening blood.

Dean dropped to his knees, cradling me to his chest.

"D-it rj!" he shook his head, but his eyes shone with fear.

"I didn't fail you like i did sam. I saved you! Thats what you wanted right? I did my job." i breathed, my voice cracking unevenly.

"No rj, i didn't want you protecting me, or even sam! I wanted you to protect yourself! So this-" his voice broke as his eyes flicked down to the bloody wound. "So this wouldn't happen."

"It would've been you dean, if it wasn't me." i muttered listlessly. My head was getting fuzzy. "Rather...it be...me...than you."

"I just don't want to lose you!" he pleaded.

But i was already gone.


	11. Attachment, Dean Winchester

"What the hell were you thinking?" Dean shouts, slamming the door open loudly.

I walk in behind him, throwing my backpack into the corner and kicking my boots off as I walk.

"I was thinking I was going to save my friend and do my job! Insane, right?" I yell back.

He rakes his hands violently through his hair, spinning to face me. His jaw pulses with anger as he tries to decide how to proceed.

"Is your job to throw yourself in front of a bullet, jump barehanded at a demon, take on the devil himself weaponless? Do the most stupid, reckless thing with the intention of getting yourself killed?" Dean shouts, his fists clenched. "Is that what your job is?"

"No Dean, my job is to make sure you and your brother stay alive at whatever cost necessary." I say evenly, keeping eye contact.

The anger leaves him, his shoulders relaxing.

"If that means throwing myself in front of a bullet or taking on the devil himself weaponless, then so be it." I say, my voice low. I look away from him, moving to pick up my boots.

As I step toward them, my leg gives out. I end up in the pile on the ground, one leg extended and one folded underneath me.

Blood has soaked through my jeans and makeshift bandage. I wince as the wound shifts, and my trembling fingers hover over the bandage.

It's too messy to do anything with now, so I pull my leg underneath me, trying to stand up. My leg collapses again, but before I can make another attempt, a heavy arm slides around my waist, pulling me up.

Dean scoops me into his arms, careful of my wounded leg.

"I'm alright Dean, I can walk." I say, weakly struggling.

He says nothing. "Dean, seriously."

"Don't argue."

I shut my mouth.

He delivers me to my room, setting me on the edge of my bed. "Don't move." He says before stepping out of the room.

Dean returns with handfuls of bandages and ointment, kneeling in front of me and taking my foot into his lap. "I'm gonna have to cut your jeans." He says, not asking permission.

I lean back, leaving my leg down so Dean can cut off the lower half of my pantleg. I chew on my sleeve, trying to keep quiet as Dean sews up the gash down my calf.

"You okay?" He asks quietly.

"Fine." I say bluntly.

"Right." He's silent for a moment. "I didn't mean what I said earlier. And I'm grateful. You saved my life."

"Yeah."

"Why won't you talk to me?" He asks stopping his work.

"I don't want to get hurt and I don't want you to get hurt because of me." I say quickly.

"And not talking to me will somehow prevent that?" Dean asks, resuming wrapping a bandage round my leg.

"Attachment, Dean Winchester, is a dangerous thing."

"Well sweetheart, it's a little late to avoid that." He ties off the bandage and leans up to press a kiss to my forehead.


	12. Cuter When You Smile

It was a late night for Sam and Dean, but one of the few nights where they had something to come home to. The bunker they'd taken over, the girls that had joined their family. Something to come back to.

Dean pushed the door open and dropped his bag of guns beside it, and Sam closed the door behind him. Sam headed straight past the kitchen to Beth's room, where the door was open and a dim light streamed from within.

Dean, however, paused at the library door. Beck was asleep on the couch within, curled in a ball against the arm. Her neck was bent at an uncomfortable looking angle, and her book had fallen to the ground. On the side table, within her easy reach, was her cell phone which she always had nearby when Sam and Dean were gone. A small smile spread across his face, despite his bone deep weariness and sheer exhaustion.

He was a little surprised she'd even tried to stay up until he returned. He'd even told her to make sure she went to bed. She always was a rebel though, that one. Dean slid his hand behind her back and lifted her gently, planning on bringing her to her room.

"Dean." Beck whispered. She didn't seem to be awake, but she shifted a bit in his arms. Another gentle smile spread across his face.

A warm feeling moved through his chest as he looked down at her peaceful face. The Winchesters had been hesitant to let the sisters into their lives, and even the girls were wary of them at first. Dean had really never let himself consider what it would be like, having...someone, someone in the life. But in that moment, the thought wouldn't leave him alone.

She was already here. He hoped she would stay. So why not?

Dean laid her gently on her bed, pulling the blanket up over her. Beck immediately shifted, settling into the blankets as a small sigh escaped her.

He hesitated a moment, unable to tear her eyes from his face. Finally he turned around, about to step through the door.

"Dean?"

Dean spun to see Beck awake, her tired eyes finding his.

"Yeah sweetheart?"

"Did it go alright? Are you okay?" she asked sleepily.

"Yeah. Yeah hun. I'm okay." Dean smiled.

"Good." She yawned hugely. "Sorry I fell asleep. I was trying to stay awake in case you guys needed me."

"It's okay. We took care of it. And you need to sleep." Dean chuckled as she tried to hide a yawn.

"Goodnight Dean."

"Goodnight princess." He smiled.

"You're cuter when you smile." She said as her eyes fluttered closed.

"Thanks for being my reason to." He muttered as he closed the door.


	13. A Relaxing Drive

Dean had always found driving relaxing. It was his way of letting his mind let go, not focusing on anything and trying to forget the nightmare that was his life. But for some reason on this drive, he couldn't relax.

Beck sat in shotgun beside him, earbuds in and her window down. The wind danced through her wild hair, flushing her cheeks and brightening her dark eyes.

The way the sun highlighted her cheekbones and glinted over her hair was devastatingly attractive. Dean was entranced, unable to focus on anything but her.

"What is it?" Beck asked, suddenly jolting him out of his trance.

"Nothing." He said, shaking his head and turning back to the road.

"You sure?" She asked, giving him a strange look.

Dean nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. Beck let it go, taking out her earbuds and sticking her arm out the window.

"Beck?"

"Yes Dean?" She turned to face him, her hair wild around her face and her eyes glowing.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

She ducked her head, cheeks reddening. "Uh, well thanks Dean…" She muttered, not meeting his eye.

Dean grinned, facing the open road.


	14. Out of Bed

"Sammy?" Beth asked sleepily. "Why are you still up?"

Sam looked up to see Beth bundled in one of his flannels and a blanket. Her blonde hair was mussed and her eyes drooped with exhaustion as she stumbled toward the table at which he worked.

"I'm wrapping up some research, baby. Did something wake you?" Sam asked, brushing his fingers over the top of her hand as she stopped beside him.

"I needed water, and then I saw that you were still up." She rubbed her eyes. "Are you almost done?"

"Yeah. Let's get you your water." Sam laced his long fingers through Beth's and led her into the kitchen, where he handed her a mug of cold water. As Beth took a long drink, Sam brushed the strands of wild hair away from her face.

"Back to bed now, babe. You need sleep."

Sam took her hand again, stroking the back of her hand in small circles.

"Are you going to bed?" She asked softly as they came to a stop in front of her bedroom door.

"Maybe."

"You better, mister. We're hunting tomorrow." Beth smiled sleepily.

"Yes ma'am." Sam grinned.

"Sammy?"

"Yes baby?"

"Uh, can you tuck me in?" Beth muttered.

"Of course." Sam chuckled. She climbed under her blankets and Sam pulled them

up around her. Beth cuddled into the blankets, already almost asleep.

"Night Beth." Sam whispered, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

"Night Sammy." her words were slurred.

Sam smiled as he shut her bedroom door.


	15. A Forgotten Phone

"Beck for the love of all that is holy will you please turn off that horrid excuse for music." Dean growled across the room to his girlfriend, who sat on her bed listening to the newest band she'd discovered as she flipped through research books to correlate between a new case.

Beck reached for her phone and turned the music up.

"Rebecca so help me-"

"What are you gonna do about it?" She raised a challenging eyebrow at him, daring him to come at her.

Dean let it go for a few minutes, but then an especially obnoxious song came on and he couldn't bear it any longer.

"Beck please stoooop." He moaned.

"Why don't you come over here and make me?" Beck sassed, not looking up from her book and tablet. Little did she know, Dean would take her seriously.

He stood up and crossed the room swiftly, snatching her book and tossing it behind him and moving her tablet from her line of sight and to her side table.

She picked up on his game quickly, lunging toward her phone. Dean however, had the same thought and ended up practically on top of her. She shoved her hands behind her back, the phone gripped tightly in them. Dean made a sound in his throat almost like a growl, hovering over her on his hands and knees. Beck squirmed, trying to escape as he tightened an arm around her waist, reaching for the phone.

"Gimme it." Dean breathed into her ear.

"Get it yourself." Beck challenged. Dean accepted, immediately going to unfair play, pressing a kiss to her throat.

"Now can I have it?" He purred.

"I won't break that easily." Beck smirked, leaning up and kissing just to the side of his mouth.

Dean made another lunge for the phone, this time getting his fingers around it. Beck struggled against him, but she was probably half his size and lost the fight quickly.

Dean triumphantly shot to his feet with the phone above his head, smirking down at Beck proudly.

She gave him a malicious grin before standing painfully close to him, running her hand down his chest before yanking on his collar and pressing her mouth to his. Dean immediately melted into the kiss, giving Beck the perfect opportunity to snatch the phone from his unsuspecting grip and run for it.

"You get back here!" Dean exclaimed as she ran from the room. He took off after her, soon catching up and pinning her to a wall.

The phone was soon forgotten, to say the least.


	16. Missing You

Dean sat at the nearly empty bar, five empty shot glasses in front of him and an empty beer mug beside them. He stared listlessly at nothing as he waited for another shot to be brought to him.

All around him, couples were sitting close together, a few hovering near what had been the dance floor a couple hours ago. He kept his eyes glued to the leather bracelet on his left wrist, even thought it only magnified the horrible ache in his chest.

Nowhere he could look prevented the ache from growing; there was only one thing on his mind.

It was Beck, a million miles from him, risking her neck to get a threat off of his back. He couldn't help but wonder if she was somewhere missing him like he was missing her.

/-/

It'd been three weeks since she'd last seen Dean. The only thing that made her okay with being so far from him was the fact that she knew she was protecting him by doing so.

She'd told him that it would be a quick trip, just to track down a couple of hunters who'd decided the Winchesters were a bigger threat than any monster. The truth was, those hunters were after her, and she was leading them away from Dean an his brother.

Beck knew she'd be no match for them if they caught up to her, and she was in a constant game of keeping them on her track but staying just ahead of them.

As she sat at a dimly lit bar, downing her sixth shot, she wondered if he was out there, thinking of her.


	17. Hopefully it'll be a Woman

"So we're gonna check out the previous tennant after this, right?" Sam looked down at the name and address scrawled on a slip of paper he held in his hand. "Dean."

"What?" Dean snapped.

"Did you hear what I said?" Sam asked his distracted brother.

"What? No, what're you saying?" Dean tore his eyes away from where Beck stood in the next room to meet his brother's eyes. She'd gone over to get some information from the manager of the hotel at which they were investigating a murder, and she'd been forced to resort to foul play. The fitted dress and blazer she wore accentuated her figure, which the manager took no shame in noticing. Even from where he stood, he could see Beck twirling a finger round a bit of hair and chewing on her lip as she listened to the manager. He watched as she smiled brilliantly, leaning toward the man a bit and laughing as she asked him something.

Dean's fists clenched as he watched from the corner of his eyes.

"Dean, she's just getting information out of him, relax." Sam said with a chuckle at his brother's ridiculousness.

"What? Yeah I know." Dean said with a forced carelessness, trying to shake off his burning jealousy.

"He says that both murders happened in room 231, which happens to be the same one we found out that murder in 1939 happened in." Beck said, marching over. The heels she wore made a sharp sound against the tile of the hotel's lobby.

"Is that all he said?" Dean snarled, glaring over her shoulder at the manager who was none too subtly watching her walk away, his eyes obviously somewhere improper.

"What?" Beck asked confused.

"Dean's struggling with some jealousy issues." Sam informed her amusedly.

"Ooh I see." Beck smirked. "Well get over it pretty boy, we've got a rogue reaper to deal with." She spun on her heel and headed toward the car, where the three were supposed to meet Beth.

The two girls sat in the backseat on the way to the home of the last person to rent room 231. Beck wiggled into her jeans and pulled off a fancy struggle to get back into her t shirt without showing any skin, which had Dean glancing into his rear view quite often.

"So Beth, you get to hit on the next dude for details." Beck said matter of factly as she pulled her sneakers back on.

"I'm not as good at it as you are." Beth argued.

"Well I'm not doing it again." Beck said as she finished tying her shoe.

"Let's hope it's a woman." Beth replied.


	18. Hellhounds

"Dean, you know I have to go, right?" Beck said quietly.  
"I know." Dean muttered, yanking his hands through his hair and making it stand up haphazardly. "That doesn't mean I have to be okay with it." He stared through the windshield of his car at the darkness outside.  
Beck reached for his hand, running her fingertips over his. "I'm sorry, Dean. I really am."  
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to the stubble of his cheek in a lingering kiss.  
Dean closed his eyes, her touch almost painful because of the heavy finality it held. She began to move away, leaning toward the door that would take her away from him forever. He let himself give in for a single selfish second, reaching his forearm round his waist and pulling her back to him, so her feet were against the passenger door and his arms were tight around her waist. Dean buried his face in her neck, taking a shaking breath and closing his eyes tightly.  
"Don't go." He pleaded.  
"You know why I have to, Dean. It's for the best." Beck cupped his face in her hand, and he leaned into her touch. "It's better if you don't see this."  
Dean knew she was right. He knew he didn't really want to see what was coming. He'd even himself  
been taken by hellhounds, felt their claws and heavy breath and seen the shapes no one else could. He didn't want to watch her be torn apart by them.  
And so he tightened his arms around her one last time, then watched her walk away.  
And then he drove away.


	19. Watch You Suffer

"Ah, Squirrel, how I've missed you." Crowley's drawling voice comes through the phone, making Dean's jaw clench in anger.

"I know you have her." He growls. His grip on the phone is white knuckles, and his teeth grind painfully.

"We haven't talked in ages." Crowley continues. "Remember when we were besties?"

"Cut the crap and tell me where she is." Dean's voice is angry, concealing his fear.

"Bollocks, you just won't get off this subject will you." Crowley has the voice of a disappointed child who didn't get his ice cream.

"No, I won't, so shut your d- mouth and tell me where she is." Dean's voice rose furiously. He moves to the end of the dock he stands on, his fingers clenching around the railing.

"Squirrel, you should know me well enough by now to know I won't just tell you where she is." Crowley says, now simpering and condescending.

"Fine you son of a b-, tell me what you want." Dean practically shouted into the phone.

"I want to watch you suffer, Squirrel! What else have I ever wanted?" Crowley cackles.

"Well I'm suffering. Can you give her back now?" Dean was practically pleading then.

"Alright, here's the deal, Squirrel." The king of hell pauses for a long moment. "You send me Moose to be ritualistically slain, and you can have back your little girlfriend."

Dean's heart practically stops. He cannot even fathom the consequences of either option. The world without Sam…. well, he's never truly known it. The world without Beck, he never wants to know. Ever.

"Want to hear what she has to say about it?" Crowley says a moment later, the sadistic grin almost audible in his voice.

Dean's stomach clenches at the thought of Beck caught somewhere, tied away and tortured.

"Dean?"

At the sound of her voice, something in Dean breaks. He slides down the railing of the dock, sitting against it. His hands rake through his hair anxiously and his eyes widen with fear.

"Beck? Sweetheart are you alright?" The words are fragile and terrified.

"Don't you dare, Dean. Don't you dare let Sam die for me. Don't you dare ask him too." Her words are strong and clear.

"Beck-" Dean's voice breaks, his eyes closing as his head drops back in defeat. He knows, deep down, that he can never give up Sam. Never.

But he didn't want to give Beck up, not for anything.

"Don't, Dean! I'm not worth that!" Her voice gets shakier, less sure of herself. "Think of Beth…" As she goes on, it sounds more and more like she is trying to convince herself.

"What do you say now?" Crowley asks triumphantly.

"No deal." Dean says, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

"What?!" Crowley is shocked. "She'll be tortured! Tortured with torture like no one in the history of torture has been tortured with!"

Dean winces, forcing that painful truth from his mind.

"I said no deal."

"Fine. But you should know: she'll be dead within three days."

A short beep signifies the end of the phone call.

Dean closes his eyes, clenching his fingers in his hair painfully and leaning his head back. Abruptly standing up, he throws the small plastic phone as far as he can off the dock and it splashes several yards away, sending frigid droplets into the air.

Dean walks back down the wharf slowly, his mind whirring to think of a way to track Crowley and save Beck. As he passed a phone booth, the phone rang, the sound shrill in the empty air around him.

Looking around at the empty docks around him, Dean hesitantly picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Dean?" The voice is weak and wavering.

"Beck?!" Dean's fingers dig into the phone. His heart speeds suddenly.

"He told me I could say goodbye." A deep breath rustles through the line. "Thank you, Dean. For everything. You made the last few years worth living. However hellish they were." A bitter laugh.

"Don't you say goodbye to me. Don't you dare. I'm going to get you out of there." Dean insists, leaning against the wall of the phone booth.

"I'm sorry. But you have Sam. That's all you need, right?" A long pause and another shaky breath.

"I love you!" Dean's voice rises to a panicked cry.

"Goodbye, Dean Winchester."

The line goes dead.


	20. Don't You Dare

"Sam!" Dean threw the door of the bunker open and it slammed into the wall with a loud clang. Sam shot to his feet on the couch where he sat, dreading the sight before him.

Beck was leaning heavily on Dean, her eyes struggling to stay open. Blood covered the left side of her face, obscuring one of her eyes entirely. Her fingers were shiny with blood from her shredded knuckles and thick rings of skin rubbed raw by cuffs encircled her wrists. The left leg of her jeans was totally shredded, soaked completely though with red. The skin underneath was torn up, the flesh ribboned. Blood was practically spewing from her thigh, where an artery must've been severed. She limped at Dean's side, unable to stand up on her own, her one visible eye rolling back. Dean did his best to hold the girl up, but she sagged against him limply. Pure terror painted Dean's face as he struggled along, trying to get her to somewhere she could lie.

"Sam! Help me, I need help!" Dean cried, panicky and anxious.

"Beth, we need help!" Sam yelled as he rushed over to his brother. The girl came running from the other room, gasping when she saw what was going on. "Get the first aid kit, as many bandages as you can find, the needle and dental floss- you know what to get!" Sam helped his brother lower Beck to the couch, and she almost immediately lost consciousness.

Beth came rushing back, dropping the items she carried onto the side table before covering her mouth and nose with her hands as tears filled her eyes.

"Beth, baby, why don't you go in the other room." Sam said softly, running his hand soothingly over Beth's back. She nodded quickly before fleeing. "Dean, start cleaning the blood off her face and figure out where it's coming from and how bad it is." Sam said, passing his brother wet cloths.

Dean complied, gently rubbing the blood away until he could see her face. His fingers stroked lines over her cheekbones and brushed over her lips, wishing her awake.

Sam meanwhile was struggling to cut off her pant leg and peel the material back to reveal the wounds.

"What happened?" He asked, bewildered by what appeared to be enormous claw marks over her leg.

"Hellhound." Dean growled, pushing hair back from Beck's face.

After hours of grueling cleaning of blood and careful stitching and bandaging, Beck appeared stable, the bleeding staunched, but she was still unconscious.

Dean hovered near her head, stroking her hair and occasionally running his fingers over her cheeks. He leaned down and whispered against her forehead.

"C'mon sweetheart, wake up. Just be alright, please be alright." He muttered, his voice defeated and weak.

Dean must've fallen asleep sitting there with her, because morning light was leaking into the bunker when he opened his eyes again. Beck had stirred slightly, waking him up immediately.

"Beck? Princess, you okay?" He asked, nudging her gently.

Her eyes fluttered open and focused a little slowly on his face.

"Dean?" Her voice was rough and barely audible, and the word quickly became a groan as she shifted. Beck's fingers closed on Dean's sleeve, gripping it into her fist as she gritted her teeth and moved to sit up. With a little help from Dean, she was soon sitting up against the couch.

A line of even stitches went from the inside edge of her left eyebrow down over the bridge of her nose to just below her right eye. Her entire leg was bandaged heavily, and she winced as it shifted.

"Oh thank God." Dean breathed, running his hands over his face in pure relief. "I thought I'd lost you." He buried his face in her hair, pulling her close. "Ah sweetheart, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

"Shut up Dean. It's never just your fault. I probably deserved it." Beck laughed weakly, her fingers curled into the back of Dean's shirt as she held him close. "I'm okay, Dean. I'm alright." She breathed against his neck as he sighed into her hair and held her closer still.

"Don't ever do that to me again." He pleaded.

"Eh, I probably will."

"Don't you dare."


	21. Crappy Pools

It had been a long day. Hours of grueling combat and pursuit weighed heavy on the four of the Winchester family. Dean was bitterly silent, Beck was high strung and sparking with snarky sarcasms. Sam was just exhausted, and Beth felt she was going to pass out on her feet.

They returned to their motel in clothes heavy with grime and blood, no small amount of it their own. Silence accompanied the foursome as they crossed the fenced pool yard of the motel.

Beck stopped at the end of the pool while the others continued on, only stopping at the sound of a splash.

Turning toward the sound, the scene before them was rare.

Beck's boots, socks, jacket and t shirt were lying in a rumpled heap and she was just bursting through the surface of the water. A huge grin was on her face as she palmed a wet mass of hair away. Her black tank top clung to her body and her still jean clad legs stroked the water.

Dean caught onto the idea immediately, dropping his own jacket, shoes and shirts beside Beck's before joining her.

Sam and Beth followed much more quietly, hovering in the shallow water, close together with fingers entwined as they exchanged whispered words.

Beck sliced through the water, kicking off the sides of the pool. When she surfaced again, she noticed Dean watching her from the edge of the pool. Submerging again, Beck moves under him and yanked his legs down.

Dean popped up spluttering before turning on her with a playful growl, throwing a splash of water her way. She laughed, the sound echoing clearly through the silent night, and Dean grinned.

They spent nearly four hours in that crappy motel pool, and though they left the thing significantly dirtier than they found it, they felt much better afterwards.

After a quiet session of carefully patching each other up, they were all fast asleep.


	22. Christmas Morning

"Sammy! Dean! Wake up!" Beth shouted, running into the hallway between the boys rooms.

Sam burst to his feet, immediately alert. "Beth?! What's wrong?!" He asked, moving toward his small girlfriend.

"Nothing's wrong!" She grinned hugely. "It's Christmas Sammy!"

Sam looked confused for a moment, then a smile spread over his face as he comprehended. Beth threw herself into his arms, and he held her tightly for a moment.

"What's going on?" Dean asked huskily, rubbing his eyes as he came out of his room to see a disgruntled Beck with messy hair and a huge black hoodie standing beside the ecstatic Sam and Beth.

"Little miss sunshine over here decided to wake me up from my first good sleep in weeks for some reason." Beck growled, palmin a strand of hair from her face.

"It's Christmas!" Beth shouted again. "We have to go have breakfast and open presents!"

"You do that. I'm going back to bed." Beck yawned.

"Not a chance, grouchy." Beth said, grabbing Sam's and Beck's hands and running toward the kitchen.

Dean started to back away, but Beck clung to his sleeve as she was dragged away.

"You don't get out of this either, pretty boy." She said as Dean groaned tiredly.

When they reached the kitchen, Sam and Beth began to prepare a Christmas breakfast: toaster waffles and stale coffee with a side of slightly mushy strawberries.

Meanwhile Dean stood in the door way, Beck leaning her forehead against his shoulder in exhaustion.

"Food's ready!" Beth said, moving the plates to the table and gesturing to Beck and Dean to come. "Wait!" She said after they were all settled. "We need Castiel!"

Beck looked up at the mention of her friend, a bite of waffle halfway to her mouth.

"Did you call me?" The angel said suddenly from behind Beth.

"Cas!" Beth cried, hugging him suddenly. He looked a little bewildered, but returned the embrace. Over the top of Beth's head, Cas gave Beck a big smile, returned through a mouthful of food.

Dean's hand settled on Beck's thigh as he watched Cas.

"Jealous." Beck whispered with a smirk.

"Always, princess." Dean gave her a side eye.

Beck shook her head, then went back to her waffles.

"Want some waffles Cas?" Beth asked.

"No thanks Elisabeth. They taste like molecules." Cas replied matter of factly, sitting down across from Dean.

Beth looked a little confused, but set down the plate of waffles.

After they'd finished eating, Beth dragged them all into the library, where Dean collapsed onto the couch with Beck, who dropped her legs into his lap.

"I'll be right back." Beth said, running from the room, her purple pajamas swishing around her feet. Sam smiled as he watched her go.

Beth came back a moment later, holding an armful of wrapped packages. She handed one each to Sam, Dean, Beck, and Cas, who each pulled a collection of packages from who knows where.

Beth went first, because she couldn't stand to wait. She'd received a lavender pen from Beck, a deck of cards from a bar from Dean, a book of fish photos from Cas (Beth had once said she loved goldfish, and Castile had simply misunderstood). From Sam she received a sterling silver locket with a picture of the two of them.

Castiel went next, despite his confusion. Dean had given him a Charlie's Angels logo keychain, Sam gave him a tie clip, Beth gave him a purple polka dotted tie (the couple had collaborated on their gifts) and Beck gave him a t-shirt reading 'My Other Car is My Wings'.

Beth insisted that Sam go next. Castiel, Beck, and Dean had all went in together to give Sam a new laptop, which he was ecstatic about. Beth gave him a sparkly hairbrush, which he would treasure even more than the laptop.

Dean went after, because Beck was insistent on not being given gifts. Sam had given Dean an entire three cases of beer, Cas gifted him a long hunting knife, Beth gave him a thick pair of socks (he was always complaining about cold feet in the morning). Beck gave him a full set of Metallica records, and a box of secondhand Journey tapes. She got a kiss for that.

Beck went last, after being literally pinned down by Dean as she tried to escape the room.

Castiel gave her a book of old British poetry, which she loves, from Sam she received a new set of headphones, from Beth a black leather jacket. Dean gave her a shotgun with her initials engraved into it.

The rest of the day disappeared in a rush of board games and snacks and tickle fights and Christmas movies being drowned out by laughter and (only slightly drunken) joking. When night fell, Castiel had disappeared and the four remaining were back in the library, sprawled over the floor and couch.

Beth lay on the floor, her head resting on Sam's stomach as he twisted his fingers through her hair. Beck sat in the corner of the couch with Dean's head on her lap, as she followed Sam's lead and carded her fingers through his thick hair.

"Merry Christmas, family." Beth whispered into the peaceful calm.

"Merry Christmas." came muttered replies.


	23. 26 Calories a Minute

"Ugh that was so much food." Beck moaned. She was sprawled across the couch, the top half of her body hanging off and her arm draped across the ground.

An empty takeout box lay on its side near her hand, a plastic fork inside it.

"You know, they say a minute of kissing burns twenty six calories." Dean said, leaning over the back of the couch.

"Well I think that was at least a thousand calories." Beck said with a smirk, pushing herself up onto her knees so she was face to face with Dean.

"Better get to work then." Dean said with a predatory grin.


	24. Charm Her

"Beck? Can I-Can I talk to you?" Sam stuck his head through my bedroom door, looking a little anxious.

"Course Sammy, what's up?" I ask, waving him over to sit on the end of my bed.

"Um- well- I...Have you noticed….? Beth-" He stammered.

"C'mon Sam, spit it out." I said, leaning toward him a bit.

"I'm trying!" He takes a deep breath, then starts again. "Has Beth been- uh, has Beth been dating anyone….recently?" He closes his eyes as the words rush out.

"What? No, she's got a huge crush on-" I stop, a grin spreading over my face. "Wait a second! You like her!" I exclaim.

Sam covers his face with his hands, a bright blush growing in his cheeks.

"Well, how could I not? It's like she purposely does all the things that make me fall for her! i don't understand how she could be so…. so perfect, so exactly what I want!" He takes a deep breath. "Everything she does, everything about her is just… so perfect… the way her hair curls, the shade of her eyes, her laugh… oh gosh her laugh." a smile took over his face as he stared in to space. When Sam finally snapped out of it, I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Alright enough of the mushy crap mister. I get it." I said. "But why are you telling me this?"

"Because I don't- I don't know how to tell _her._ " He explained.

"Right. So again, you're telling me

because…?" I asked impatiently.

"Because I was hoping you could help me figure out how to tell her." Sam explained awkwardly.

"Just tell her what you just told me. She's a hopeless romantic, Sam, just try any trick in the book. Flowers, chocolate, a concert, a serenade, dinner out, whatever. Just pick the most cheesy and stereotypical thing google can tell you, and she'll love it." I said. It was true, Beth was a hopeless romantic.

"She's literally the easiest person to charm." I added.

"But- you said earlier she has a giant crush…." His face fell.

"Sam you idiot." I shook my head. "She's got a giant crush on you. Which honestly, I thought you of all people would pick up on. I mean, Dean and I have been betting on how long it would take you two to get together for ages. And…" I checked my watch. "If you make your move before Tuesday, I'll win. So hurry up lover boy." I glanced up at him. He was still a bit red.

"Alright, I'll do it by then if you hurry up too." Sam smirked as he stood up.

"Hurry up with what?" I asked innocently.

"Oh you know what."

After a moment I realized, and then it was my turn to blush.

"What?! There's nothing to hurry up on!" I yelled at him.

"Just keep on telling yourself that!"

"Get out!" I slammed the door behind him, hearing him giggle as he went.

A few minutes later, I heard a screech from somewhere towards Beth's room and smirked.


	25. I Am Not Amused

"WE HAVE TO GO ON THE ROLLER COASTER!" Beck shouted suddenly as they rounded a bend.

The Winchesters and co. were in an amusement park somewhere in Colorado, researching what appeared to be a haunted house….with actual ghosts.

"Beck, we're on a case." Sam said, his eyebrows pulling together in question.

"Yeah I know, but can't we spare a couple minutes for the coaster?" She asked exasperatedly. "The line's really short right now too!"

"Why don't we go afterwards?" Beth, who was walking very close to Sam, suggested.

"But after we deal with whatever this is, you'll all be too exhausted to go on a roller coaster." Beck complained. "Plus the line will probably be longer!" She looked at Dean for support.

"She's got a point." Dean said, meeting Sam's eyes.

"Alright fine. We'll go on the roller coaster." Sam said.

"Yes!" Beck exclaimed, jumping up and down.

/-/

"This is so boriiing." Beck moaned.

"Beck it's been five minutes." Beth commented.

Dean poked her side and she squirmed a bit. "Look, we're almost there." He pointed.

A grin spread over her face. "You're gonna ride with me, right?"

"Obviously." Beck smiled back at him.

"Dean, you hate roller coasters." Sam said suddenly.

"Aren't you afraid of heights?" Beck asked, turning around so she was between the railing and Dean.

He leaned in close enough that the other two were uncomfortable and said, "Guess you gotta protect me."

Sam raised an eyebrow and took Beth's hand as the line moved up.

/-/

Not long after, they were in cue to board the coaster, just waiting for the previous riders to unload.

"I love roller coasters!" Beck squeaked, bouncing giddily. She and Dean had ended up in the very front car, and Dean was finally showing some signs of nervousness, staying close to Beck.

"You scream on them?" He asked, watching another car spin upside down farther up the track.

"Nah, I'm not really a screamer." She replied, not thinking about her answer.

"We'll see about that." Dean muttered into her ear as they boarded the car.

Beck's eyes widened, spinning to smack Dean before the shoulder bar went down.

As the cars slowly maneuvered to the start, Dean's fingers wandered toward Beck's. When the coaster shot off, he practically crushed her fingers, and didn't let go.

Behind them, Beth was screaming her lungs out, and Sam's laughter could be heard even over her screaming.

/-/

When the ride ended and the four had stumbled off, Beck grinning excitedly, Beth looking terrified and clinging to Sam. Dean's eyes were wide as he stumbled after Beck, who seemed to be the only one unfazed.

"That was so fun!" She shouted, bouncing along toward the haunted house that was their original goal.

"If you say so." Dean muttered.

/-/

After a few minutes interviewing the people running the ride under the pretense of being surprise investigators for the Department of Ride Safety (total b.s. obviously), the four entered the haunted house, boarding a small vehicle that would take them through it.

From under their jackets, each of them pulled out rock salt shotguns. Beck fitted her brass knuckles over her narrow fingers, flexing her hands with a smirk.

Beth was a bit skittish, hovering near Sam and glancing around nervously.

The car they rode in was double sided, so the four were back to back, the two girls on one side and the boys on the other.

It was a slow ride at first, the basic monster jump scares and eerie music.

Somewhere near the middle, the machinery faltered and a long screeching sound echoed through the long room their car was in. Their car shrieked to a stop and the doors on either side of them slammed shut, isolating them from the rest of the attraction.

The temperature suddenly plummeted; they could each see their breaths.

"Sam…" Beth said slowly, her voice rising in alarm.

"It's gonna be alright Beth, you've got your gun." Sam said reassuringly.

Beth didn't seem very reassured. Beck gave her a warning nod, tightening the grip on her gun.

Suddenly the animatronic zombies inside the room shuddered back to life. The four could barely see them in the darkness of the ride, only able to watch their outlines. The robots stumbled toward them, the eyes suddenly alight with an eerie green light that was certainly not from electricity.

Beth's breath sped up, and Beck raised her gun, firing two salt rounds through a pair of robots. They halted to a stop, clanging to the ground.

Beth's scream lurched Sam out of his search for the seemingly gone animatronics. On the other side of him, out of his sight, one of them had wrapped Beth's wrists in an iron grip, making her drop her gun. Beck struggled to get a shot off at the thing, but couldn't without hitting Beth.

"Get off me!" Beck yelled at another robot who had grabbed for her. She yanked her arms back, causing the robot to smash into the lap bar pinning her down.

It was evidently made of iron, because the green light that could only be from a spirit flickered out of the bot. Beck snatched her gun, wriggling against the bar holding her hips down and lifted her shotgun over her head and fired blindly, making a lucky shot at the bot holding Beth.

"Get your gun!"

Beth scrambled to find it, but it had apparently fallen out of the vehicle.

"It's gone!" Beth screamed.

Meanwhile, Sam and Dean were pushing and pulling at the bar pinning them, firing shots whenever a possessed animatronic got too close.

"Beth! Beth, baby, are you alright?" Sam yelled. Fear coursed through him as he strained to go to her with everything in him. His heart was racing, he could think of nothing but getting to her, protecting her.

"I'm okay Sammy, I'm o-" Her voice melted into a shriek of pain, making Sam freak out, throwing his weight against his restraints. Dean held back the ghosts as his brother squirmed.

Beth had been grabbed by another bot and it was pulling on her arm with alarming strength, and she screamed as hot pain shot through her shoulder.

Beck tried to get a shot at the thing, but another one knocked her gun out of the car and grabbed her wrist, yanking her arm toward its mouth and closing its jaw around her forearm. She yelled through clenched teeth and swung her brass knuckles into the things face, leaving dents in its forehead, and wrenching its teeth from her arm.

Finally managing to wriggle out of the restraint, Beck lunged toward the bot pulling on Beth, tackling it to the ground and straddling it as she shredded her brass knuckles across its face.

"Beth! Your gun!" Beck tossed the weapon back to her friend, who shot back the two animatronics approaching her.

Sprinting down the room with three of the enemy on her tail, Beck searched desperately for a few panicked moments before her eyes settled on her target: the plaque dedicating the attraction to a certain Marshal Timothy, who'd been helping to build it when he died in a tragic accident.

Glancing back at her pursuers, Beck tore the bottle of gasoline from her side bag, dumping it over the plaque and surrounding area. She struggled to light a match as the stumbling animatronics closed in, dropping the light just as they reached her.

A moment later, all of the robots dropped to the ground with a heavy thud, and Beck rushed back to the ride vehicle. The lap restraints had finally released as the attraction thundered back to life, the music and lights returning slowly.

Sam rushed toward Beth as soon as he was released, scooping her up into his arms as she clung to him.

"Are you okay honey? You alright?" He asked, setting her back down gently and smoothing the hair away from her face.

Beth winced and nodded, rubbing her sore

shoulder. Sam pulled her into his chest, holding her impossibly close.

Dean crossed to Beck who was stumbling toward him, holding her arm in a futile attempt to stop the blood.

"It bit me!" She sounded a little shocked.

"How did you know that would do the trick?" Dean asked, pulling her arm from

her so he could wrap it in a makeshift bandage.

"Don't know, I just guessed. I sure am

glad it worked though." Beck kicked the head off of one of the animatronics and it clattered into a wall.

"Aw sweetheart. I told you to be careful with these things." Dean brushed his fingertips over her knuckles. The brass knuckles had been beaten into her hands and blood was already trailing down her fingers.

"Whoops." Beck muttered, wincing as she made an attempt to pull them off. In the end she had to basically tear them off, resulting in a steadier flow of blood.

"I haven't got anything to wrap them with." He said, cupping her hand in his own.

"It's alright." She pulled her hand away and shook it, sending drops of blood spraying. "Let's get out of this crap hole." Beck muttered, walking toward Sam and Beth.


	26. Normal' is Overrated

"Hey Beth? Have you ever been to this fancy Italian place?" Beck asked, gesturing at her iPad screen.

"What's it called?" Beth looked up from the research book she was going through for Sam.

"I don't know how to say it, it's too weird." Beck replied, tilting the tablet so Beth could see it.

"Nope. I haven't really been to any fancy restaurants." Beth looked back at her book, flipping a page with a bored look on her face.

"I'm gonna make reservations, for us and the boys." Beck said matter of factly, tapping purposefully on her screen. "And google the pronunciation, so we can ask them out properly." She added as an afterthought.

"Good idea." Beth said without looking up.

/-/

"Hey Dean, I gotta ask you something." Beck walked into his room, where he sat listening to Metallica and cleaning his gun.

"What's up sweetheart?" He glanced up, setting his gun down. His eyes travelled a little too slowly over her tank top and very fitted exercise leggings before resting on her face, which was surrounded by hair that had fallen out of her messy ponytail.

"What are you doing this Friday night?" Beck asked, dropping onto the edge of his bed.

"You, hopefully." Dean muttered under his breath.

"What?" Beck asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Nothing. I don't think I'm doing anything, except maybe getting stupid drunk and hoping that the world doesn't try to end again." Dean said clearly, meeting her eyes then.

"Okay well, I made reservations for me, you, Beth and Sam at Bella Italia for Friday. I figured we should dress up and go out to dinner, like normal couples for once." Beck shrugged, unsure of her thought.

"That sounds nice." Dean said carefully.

"I know that it will probably all go to crap in the first five minutes, but I mean, I've got that little black dress and stuff so…" Beck trailed off with a smirk, knowing Dean would agree.

"Yep. Definitely sounds nice." He grinned, passing her a beer.

/-/

"Hey Sammy, you like Italian food right?" Beth asked innocently, approaching Sam at his desk.

"Uh, yeah, actually. One of my favorites." Sam replied, looking up at her. "Why do you ask, babe?" He added, running his hand over her lower back as she stood next to him.

"Well, Beck and I made some reservations for the four of us to go to Bella Italia this Friday. You know, dress up and be all fancy and stuff." A grin spread over her face as she thought of it.

"That sounds awesome, Beth." Sam smiled at her, pulling her a bit closer to him. "Are you gonna wear that blue dress?" He asked, resting his chin on her

shoulder as she ran a hand through his hair.

"Sure Sammy, if you want me to." She laughed.

"Yes please!" Sam nodded enthusiastically.

"Okay." Beth giggled.

/-/

Friday night arrived after a very long week, and the four had to work up the energy to be able to go out.

"Beck, could you help me with this necklace?" Beth asked, holding her hair out of the way.

"Yeah, if you zip me." Beck crossed the room to help her friend.

"How about you ask Dean to?" Beth snickered.

"Oh no, he does the unzipping hun." Beck replied with a smirk.

"Aw, gross!" Beth laughed.

"So uh, did Sam ask you to wear this dress?" Beck asked as she fastened Beth's necklace.

"What? Oh, yeah he did." Beth said a little distractedly.

"Well I can tell why." Beck said, eyes running over the swooping back and lace cut outs on the sides.

"Stooop." Beth moaned, covering her red face with her hands.

"You look great love." Beck assured her.

"Thanks." Beth was still blushing.

/-/

"I think this is the only time I've ever worn this suit without claiming to be fbi or something." Sam said as he pulled on his jacket.

"You're probably right." Dean agreed, skipping over the top two buttons of his dress shirt.

"You know, I'm actually really looking forward to this." Sam said as he straightened his shirt in the mirror.

"Did you ask Beth to wear that blue dress you wouldn't shut up about for two weeks?" Dean asked, elbowing his brother.

"Ah be quiet. You're the one who was convinced to go only by Beck's little black dress." Sam said, shoving Dean back.

"Well you gotta admit, the girl looks fine." Dean said as he laced his boots. "Actually don't agree to that. You shouldn't know."

Sam laughed a bit.

A knock startled them out of their teasing, and Dean moved to answer the door. Beth stood outside, wobbling about in her new wedges.

"You look nice. Sam, it's for you." Dean said, turning to call his brother.

"Wow." Sam breathed as his eyes met Beth's, then swept (none too quickly) over her.

"I wore the blue dress." She said shyly, looking at her feet.

"Yeah you did." Sam grinned, moving to rest his hand on her waist as she escorted him toward the car.

"Hey pretty boy."

Dean turned to see Beck leaning against the doorway, her black dress hugging her body and her heeled boots making her legs appear even longer. Her lips were a brilliant blood red and dark makeup made her eyes flash in a dangerously attractive way.

"Hot d-." Dean breathed. Beck smirked and crossed to him.

"Don't you look nice." She purred as she straightened his collar.

"Not as nice as you." Dean said, running his hand over her waist.

"Ready to go?" Beck asked. Dean nodded and she led him from the room. "If we hurry we might be able to embarrass Sam and Beth." She grinned.

They did indeed embarass Sam

and Beth, who were enthusiastically smooching as they entered the room. The two sprang apart and Beth immediately turned a brilliant red, stammering an explanation and pushing Sam away.

"Told you!" Beck cackled, making even Sam blush. "Dibs on driving, by the way." She said, snatching the keys from Dean's pocket (which made his eyes widen significantly).

/-/

They loaded into the car laughingly, Dean in shotgun and Beck driving, the other two in the backseat.

"You two better watch it back there, I've still got a rear view." Beck joked.

Beth blushed again.

The drive was long and quiet, Beth whispering to Sam in the back and Dean running his hand up and down Beck's thigh.

"We have arrived." Beck said grandiosely, parking the Impala and pulling the keys out. She threw her door open as the others followed suit.

"I'm gonna eat everything." Beck proclaimed as they entered the restauarant.

"Good luck with that sweetheart." Dean commented, sliding his arm around her waist as they were escorted to a table.

They slid into the exceptionally small booth, Beth admiring the candles and small rose centerpiece.

A waiter appeared a moment later, passing them each a glossy menu and Beck a wine menu, as the reservations were in her name.

"So do we want eu- aw- alright I don't know how to pronounce any of this crap." Beck said, tossing the menu to Beth. "You pick something, you're more sophisticated than I am."

Beth looked a bit bewildered, but picked up the menu.

The waiter returned a few minutes later to take their orders.

"I'll have the pesto and brie ravioli." Beck said as she passed her menu back.

"I'd like the marinara penne, please." Beth said with a smile, handing in her own menu.

"I'll have what she's having." Dean said, gesturing toward Beck. He had no clue what the menu he returned even said.

"I'd like the tomato bisque and a french baguette." Sam said, his eyebrows creased in signature Sam face as he passed over his menu.

"And can we have this wine?" Beth added.

"That'll be right out." The waiter said.

"That actually means: You might have your food by next week." Beck muttered sarcastically.

Dean laughed a bit in response to her, but nodded in agreement at the same time.

Sam was engrossed in playing with Beth's fingers, running his own up and down hers and weaving them occasionally between his.

Dean watched them for a minute, then glanced at Beck, who sighed and gave him her hand. Dean smiled a bit and took her hand.

"The ravioli?"

Beck raised her hand and the waiter set a large plate in front of her, then another in front of Dean before passing Beck and Sam their food.

"Seriously?" Beck looked down at her plate with a slightly disbelieveing expression.

On her plate was a single ravioli drizzled with a ridiculously sparse amount of sauce and a smear of soft cheese on the side. It was altogether maybe three bites.

The other plates were occupied in a similar fashion, all very disappointingly sized.

"I paid fifteen bucks for a singular noodle?!" Beck exclaimed.

Dean laughed at that statement, which sent Sam and Beth into laughter too and soon Beck couldn't help but join.

They finished the meal quickly and washed it down with the entire bottle of wine, pausing occasionally to laugh at the size of their food.

Beck took the bill and insisted on paying, then they left, returning to the bunker.

/-/

As soon as they arrived back home, Beck marched to the kitchen and pulled out a frozen pizza, sticking it in the heating oven.

When Dean followed her and saw what she was doing, he pulled out leftover Mexican from the fridge. Beth put on a pot of macaroni and Sam helped her.

They worked in silence, preparing their various types of junk food and snacking on popcorn and theatre treats as they did.

Beck stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth as she leaned against the counter, kicking off her heels and padding around the kitchen with her now bare feet. Beth followed suit, leaning on Sam to kick them off as she stirred the macaroni.

Beck pushed herself onto the counter, swinging her feet as she waited for her pizza to cook. Dean stood close to her, occasionally poking her sides and making her squirm.

Dean pulled his Mexican out of the microwave and Beck carefully removed her pizza from the oven; so carefully that she squealed and nursed several burning fingers under the faucet once she was done.

Beth separated the macaroni into two bowls, passing one to Sam and sticking spoons into both.

"We should watch a movie." Beck said suddenly.

"That my dear, is a fantastic idea." Dean said through a mouthful of slightly soggy burrito.

After collecting the rest of their food, the four migrated to the couches before the television, each pair claiming a couch. The boys shed their coats and Sam took off his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. Dean sat at the edge of the couch, setting his plate on the arm and patting the cushion beside him to summon Beck over. She plopped down beside him, settling into his side and stretching her legs out to the side. Dean ran his fingers down her side, lingering on her waist where the tight dress had bunched up a bit.

"Still love this dress." Dean whispered into her ear.

Beck smirked and planted a short kiss on his jaw, prompting him to turn and kiss her mouth.

"What movie?" Sam had knelt near the television stand, which had a basket of movies beneath it.

"World War Z!" Beck shouted, almost dropping her pizza in her sudden excitement.

"No, that's too scary!" Beth said, curling into her blanket and pulling her macaroni close.

"Elisabeth we literally fight monsters for a living, and a zombie movie is too scary?" Beck said exasperatedly.

Beth just nodded.

"Ugh fine." Beck groaned. "What about Edge of Tomorrow?"

Beth shook her head.

"Harry Potter?"

Head shake.

"Um….Lord of the Rings?"

Head shake.

"Pacific Rim?!"

Head shake.

"FINE! What do _you_ want to watch then?" Beck finally gave up, dropping her head back against Dean's shoulder in defeat.

"I think we should watch Confessions of a Shopaholic." Sam said from where he say flicking through movies.

"Yes!" Beth exclaimed.

Beck groaned.

"Deeaan make them change it." She whined playfully.

"We can watch something else later princess. I'm sure Sammy and Beth will be too distracted to watch another one." Dean said with a knowing smirk.

"As if you two won't." Sam said over his shoulder. "Coughlittleblackdresscough."

"What?" Beck asked, confused.

"Nothing. Sam's just being ridiculous." Dean said, throwing a glare his brother's way.

"Okaaay."

/-/

By the time they were halfway through the movie, all four were fast asleep. Beck was sprawled across the couch, her head in Dean's lap and her empty pizza plate on the ground. Dean was slumped against the arm of the couch, totally out. His arm was draped over Beck's waist.

Beth was curled up against Sam's side and his arm was around her, his head resting against hers. A peaceful quiet filled the room.

Turned out the Winchesters and co could never be 'normal' couples. But that wasn't always a bad thing. As long as the world wasn't literally ending, it was actually pretty nice.


End file.
